


Ouch!

by rock_mafia



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-12
Updated: 2011-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:50:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rock_mafia/pseuds/rock_mafia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John falls down a cliff and breaks his leg. Meredith plays nursemaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ouch!

Swaying just slightly on the infirmary bed, John swallows hard, trying to focus on Carson. It's not easy with a raging headache and a throbbing ankle, but he knows this is important, so he tries.

"… so, don't be a hero, Colonel. If you need the pills, for God's sake, take them," he says, thrusting the little bottle into Meredith's hand. John tries to nod, but he soon realizes that's a really bad idea.

"Are you sure he should be taking pain pills?" Meredith snipes, crossing her arms over her chest. She looks pissed. John knows she is pissed, but surely she wouldn't deny him the luxury of Carson's best stuff… would she? "For all we know, his brain could be scrambled more than usual and—"

"It's a mild concussion, Meredith," Carson says and even through his drug-induced haze, John thinks he hears a smirk. "He'll be fine. Just give him one every four to six hours as needed."

John catches her look of annoyance before she harrumphs and grabs the set of crutches from where they've been propped against the wall.

"I trust you can use these without killing yourself?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at John. He means to say yes, but it comes out as nothing more than garbled whimper so she huffs in irritation and snaps at one of the nurses. "Wheelchair."

"Ica'walk," John blurts out, but Meredith just glares.

"I don't want to take a chance of you breaking your neck, you big idiot. At least not until I've had a chance to break it for you."

She's gearing up for a big lecture, which translates to: John is so fucked.

"You know, I get this whole… saving people thing that you seem to have, but have you no sense of self preservation? You practically threw yourself down a God damned cliff after Ronon! Ronon! The indestructible giant! Have you forgotten the time he had a freaking spear jammed into his leg and he just walked away like nothing happened?"

John can't be sure, but he thinks he can feel his face flush.

"Carson," she says, hands flying to her hips. "How was Ronon when he came in here?"

"Barely a scratch on him," Carson, the bastard, says. He's smirking now, clearly enjoying the show.

"Barely a scratch! Barely a freaking scratch while you, Lieutenant Colonel Idiot will now be out of commission for six weeks with a broken leg!"

"Alright," Carson says. "That's enough now, Meredith. How about you get the Colonel back to his room and let him get some rest?"

John wonders if it would be too obvious if he just asked to stay in the infirmary, but before he can, Meredith is snatching the wheelchair from the nurse's hand and guiding it over to the bed.

"C'mon," she huffs and rather than piss her off even more, John complies. He wonders how long it'll take before someone realizes she's murdered him.

.::.

By the time Meredith gets him in bed and props his leg up, John's exhausted. One of the things he hates the most about being injured is how lazy he feels. It takes next to nothing to leave him feeling weak and tired and right now, he wants nothing more than to sleep for a week.

"I'm going to slip down to the mess hall and stock up," Meredith says, in a voice much softer than the one she used in the infirmary. "Do you want anything in particular?"

"I'm good," John says.

She snorts at that and runs her fingers through his hair. "You're broken," she corrects, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "I'll see if they have some of that pudding stuff that you like."

He waves her off weakly and settles back against his pillow, trying to forget the pain in his leg. Throwing himself down the cliff after Ronon hadn't been his smartest idea, but in his defense, Ronon would have done the same for him. He had no way of knowing whether or not he'd be injured; his only concern was helping his team member get to safety.

He can still remember the sound of Meredith screeching at him on his way down. He supposes he's lucky that she didn't throw herself down after them too, but she had enough common sense to maneuver the 'Jumper down the cliff and pick them up.

Shaking his aching head to clear it of the memory, John closes his eyes.

.::.

He hasn't been asleep for long when Meredith comes barging back into the room, arms loaded down with things from the mess hall.

"Well," she announces, a hint of annoyance in her tone, "there was no pudding, but I did steal extra Jello and they were having that stuff that tastes like turkey for dinner, so I got you a couple…" she trails off. "You aren't asleep, are you?"

"Not now," John grumbles, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "'s it almost time for my pills?"

"You still have an hour or so," she says. "And when I say an hour or so, I mean no less than sixty minutes because the last thing I need to do is kill even more of your brain cells by overmedicating you."

John just blinks at her.

"Right. May be too late for that."

Depositing her feast on the edge of the bed, she grabs the desk chair and rolls it over before dropping down into it.

"You do realize I can't entertain you for the next six weeks," she says, reaching over to fluff the pillow under his broken leg. "I've worked something out with Zelenka for the next couple of days, until I'm sure your leg isn't going to rot and fall off, but I really can't stay away from the lab longer than that."

In 'Mer speak', John knows that means that she has no intention of leaving his side if she can help it.

"I'm sure I'll manage," he says dryly, eyeing the not-quite-turkey sandwich longingly.

She huffs a little and rolls her eyes before she picks it up, bringing it to his lips. "Not too much. I don't want you puking all over me and these are clean sheets, you know."

She's rambling now, so John reaches out, covering her hand with his. He knows that when she gets like this, it's because she's worried. "Hey," he says. "I'm okay, you know."

She falters slightly before she nods and gives him a crooked smile. "Yeah… Yeah, I know," she says, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "And it's a good thing you are, because if not, I would have had to kill you."

John knows that just means she loves him.

Still, he wonders if it's too late to go back to the infirmary. Six weeks of Meredith playing nursemaid is bound to drive him crazy.

"You'd better believe it," she says, as if reading his mind. "But after scaring me like that today, you deserve no less."

"Point," John concedes, barely stifling a yawn.

"You're tired," Meredith says, standing up before reaching for the blanket. She moves to cover him when he reaches for her hand again, squeezing her fingers.

"Stay?"

She softens for a moment before she glares at him. "Of course I'm staying. Have to make sure you don't fall out of bed and kill yourself."

John just grins because he knows that means she wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world.


End file.
